WRINKLES IN TIME

It’s the ordinary that evokes nostalgia. It’s the everyday, blend-in-the-background moments that stew for eternities, before they turn into that one image your memory flashes every time you reminisce. The corner chaat place. The nondescript stationery shop at the next bend on the road. The fix-it-all garage near your college. The sleepy second-hand bookstore. The wise faces of the vegetable hawkers.

They were there.
All the time.
And you saw them.
All the time.

But you never know how much they make the place you call your home, home. Until one day, when you go to pick groceries and you see one of these old faces and you just smile. And you go back in time, back when mummy would give you a hundred rupee note and a long list of things to buy and you would pedal away on your pink Miss India gold and load up your basket with everything.

And now, you go there, say a hi, and they give you that glowing smile, the oh-this-kid-isn’t-a-kid-anymore-how-kids-grow-up-so-fast smile and you’re left wondering, when did the time fly by?
Yes, it’s the little things that make for a hard goodbye.